


A Game of Naked Grace

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Any kinks listed are a small part of a bigger whole, Body Hair, Drunken Shenanigans, F/F, Foot Massage, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strip Poker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:11:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4664430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sera proposes an unconventional form of morale boost.  Shenanigans ensue.</p><p>NOTE: THIS IS AN EARLY FIC, AND I MAY END UP NEVER COMPLETING IT.  JUST BE WARNED GOING IN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is roughly based in my own playthrough. Thanks are due to Padme4000 on DeviantArt for extracting the character models I'll be using for costume references in this.

For all the progress the Inquisition had made, morale was low. Or, at least, Baerca Cadash’s morale was low. It had been a while since Haven, but even so…shit. An archdemon, or a reasonable approximation was in the hands of a man—a thing—that should have been dead. They’d lost that Hawke woman, and the whole fiasco in Orlais. Baerca made a mental note—fuck Orlais. Orlais was bronto shit. The rest of her inner circle were feeling it too, she could tell. And to top it all off, all this brooding and pacing was seriously killing the post-coital mood.

“Do I have to frigging drag you back here, Inky? I know I’m all pointy in places, but I still think that earned a cuddle, yeah?

“I just have the Inquisition on my mind, Sera.”

“What, Coryphtimuss and Duke whatsistits and all that? I knew that. I’m not dim. The whole bloody place is up to its eyeballs in doom and gloom. I’ll tell you what you need to do.”

“Come over and be your soft dwarfy pillow?”

“I mean that’d be nice, Inky, but you need to be a proper leader and get together a morale booster.”

“How do you mean?”

“Alcohol.” Sera said it like you would say the sky was blue. “You’ve picked up all these bottles of liquor from all those abandoned buildings. Share ‘em, yeah?”

“Ok. Get drunk. That’s it?”

“Well, I mean, not all that. See, what I was thinking, was, it’s frigging impossible to take anything seriously when you’re naked—“

“I’m managing right now.”

“Well, you’re…erm…you. Anyway, so we play wicked grace, right, and whoever loses the hand takes off their clothes. Like, not all at once, but a piece at a time.” She put on her best saleswoman’s grin.

“We play naked grace.”

“Ah, shite, that’s a great name for it! You’re a brilliant woman, you are.”

“That’s…what it’s called. It’s a thing.”

“Oh. Well, so much for me being a genius.”

************  
Varric burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” he said upon composing himself, and then broke down again. “Somewhere out there, there’s a pirate who’s just fuming with jealousy and has no idea why. See, back in Kirkwall she was always pushing the rest of us to play a game of Naked Grace, and she could never get more than a couple to agree. She’d decide that wasn’t enough, so the whole thing was off.” He laughed again. “This is rich.”  
“Is that a yes?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

*************  
“Boss, you don’t have to ask me twice.”

“Are the chargers in?”

“Nah. They’re good with you, but Cassandra?”

“And you are? Good with her, I mean?”

“I’m good with seeing her out of that armor.”

“Never change, Bull.”

“Never will, Boss.”

*****************  
Solas simply gave her a speech on how, unless you desperately wanted to see your friends naked, naked grace was a terrible game. The whole of the thing, he said, was in the tactics of betting. If it was simply a contest for the best hand, then it was largely a matter of luck that could scarcely be called a game. Given the number of dreams he’d been in, she could hardly blame the man for being jaded about a little bare skin. Still, the whole lanky elf thing really did it for her. Shame.

*****************  
Dorian was actually twirling his moustache. “Well, I couldn’t deny the world this, could I?”

“No, I can’t imagine you could. To be frank, I’m glad to get to see you naked after all.”

“And I’ll be very glad to see Cullen naked after all. Ah, this game is a gift to the sexually irreconcilable everywhere. All civilized cultures should have some incarnation of it.”

*****************  
Baerca hadn’t actually expected Cullen to agree.

“You have to understand,” he said, “This sort of thing is one of the few things I still think fondly of from my days in the Templars.”

Baerca hadn’t expected that either.

“It got slow in the tower, when everything went smoothly. You stayed on the night watch, you were young, you got up to things. One question, though.”

“Go ahead.”

“You’ve gotten some of the girls to agree, right?”

Well, shit.

***************  
“Darling,’ said Vivienne, ‘does anything about my demeanor suggest that I’m a libidinous sailor on shore leave.”

“It’ll be fun. And so far we need more women.”

“Yes. Fun. We shall see, but I don’t believe you’ll get to see any more of me than you already get to. Besides, I was under the impression that you don’t particularly like me.”

“Hardly diplomatic of you, darling,” Baerca mocked, “I don’t entirely. But I respect you. And you’re part of the team and you deserve to be included.”

“And you’d like to see me naked. Consider my response a polite, ‘probably not.’ Diplomatic enough, I hope?”

Well, _shit._

***************  
“You know,” said Leliana, “As spymaster here, I’ve already come across some rumors about your bodies.”

“I’m sorry I asked.”

“Oh, does this mean I’m disinvited?”

It did not.

***************  
Josephine looked up from her desk with concern. “You do know that if this were to leave Skyhold, within a week we’d be hearing stories of a false prophet holding orgies and corrupting the virtue of holy women like our lady Seeker.”

“I understand we have a professional secret-keeper here at Skyhold.”

“Yes, I suppose. Still, this is more the sort of thing my sister Yvette would do.”

Leliana stepped into the room from…somewhere. “Oh, Josie, you must! I’ll be there and Cullen will be there and Blackwall will be there…and I’ll be there.”

“Wait,” said Baerca, “Blackwall will be there? You asked on my behalf?”

“Well, I know Josie likes hairy men. And besides, I want her there.” She hugged Josephine. Tightly. She may have grabbed her ass.

This was going to be interesting.  
**************

Baerca was on her way to ask Cassandra, when, hoooooly shit there was Cole.

“I think I should go to this thing you’re planning.”

“Wait, you know?”

“I can’t make people forget anymore, but I can hide. I want to go. I mean, I don’t want to go. I think it’s part of being more human.”

“You don’t want to go?”

“No, I do. I mean, I should.”

“Cole. Do you or do you not want to be drunk and naked with a bunch of other drunk and naked people?”

“Not really, but—“

“Look, Cole, the whole sex thing. Wanting to get naked and uninhibited with all your friends has about as much to do with being human as eating cheese. It’s common, but it doesn’t mean anything. You don’t have to do this.”

Cole looked impossibly relieved. And then puzzled. 

“But…I like cheese.”

*************  
Cassandra looked on the verge of a disgusted noise. “Naked grace? Are we teenagers together in barracks for the first time?”

“Does that mean you’ve played before?”

“You are incorrigible.”

“That’s me. It’s a one-time offer, seeker. I bet you miss those old days.”

She lowered her voice. “To be honest, I really do enjoy that sort of game. You must make the others promise that they act as though I were never there. It is…not in line with what I would like people to think of me.”

Between this and Varric’s novels, Baerca was starting to suspect that the lady Seeker had quite the beast of a libido.

**************

And now it was time to talk to the spookiest person Baerca knew. She was fine with Solas, fine with even Cole, but Morrigan? Baerca barely knew her yet, and she was not all right around her. On the other hand, she was, well, she was sexy. The whole icy thing, the voice—Stone, the voice—and that whole sash-brassiere combination was just…oof. Baerca was not going to miss out on getting _that_ naked.

So. Into the gardens.

“Um, Morrigan?”

“What is it?”

“Well, um, can we talk about this out of earshot of your son.”

“Ah, this is about a certain night of card playing?”

Oh, Stone. “Leliana, right?”

“We have been travelling companions. And she looked at me the way you looked at me.”

“I, um, how?”

“’Tis not shameful. Fruitless and perhaps adolescent, but not shameful. I shall attend. Perhaps I shall see something I like, and have it for my own.”

See? Spooky!


	2. Of Shoes and Chest Hair

Of course half of them came in armor. Baerca thought of her own setup—Boots, overshirt, undershirt, pants, underthings. Some of her followers had belts alone that could get them through three or four hands of this thing. She could have just gone streaking and called it a day.

They’d lain cushions on the floor of Baerca’s room, as Sera wisely pointed out they’d all be on the floor anyway. The bed had been reserved only for inquisitor-canoodling. Sera had given Baerca a, quote, “free pass” in exchange for the same, although, frankly, she’d just as soon curl up against Sera’s elfy bones all evening.

Sera brandished a bottle of something called Carnal. “So. We all want to have a really good time, yeah? Well, in the spirit of that whole whatsis, I declare that this aphrodisi-mac be our first toast. To the inquisition!” She turned to Baerca. “See, all that speechifying you do isn’t so tough.” Baerca shot her a look.

Josephine lost the first hand. She slipped out of her shoes, which Leliana picked up and set beside her.

“Now,” said Leliana, “Josie already knows this, but one of my duties as spymaster is Keeper of the Shoes in any game of this sort. Unless the shoes are boring, of course.”

“Leliana…likes shoes,” added Josephine, helpfully.

Sure, why not.

After a few more hands, Leliana had developed quite the shoe collection. Sera’s, Dorian’s, Varric’s, Cullen's, and Baerca's own. She let Iron Bull keep his, on the grounds that for any non-Qunari, they were hats and not shoes. Josephine had lost her long yellow socks, as well, and Leliana broke the trend by removing her hood. She knew how to shake out her hair like a pro, too. Whoof.

Morrigan lost her first hand of the night. She unhooked her black bra from the large gold collar she wore, and let her breasts hang free. They were somewhat large for her thin frame, and hung with the weight of a past pregnancy. Baerca though they were beautiful.

The Iron Bull grinned “You don’t mess around, do you.”

“’Tis the purpose of the game, is it not? We do not do this to stare at one another’s bare feet.” By way of registering disagreement, Josephine wiggled her toes, then put her feet into Leliana’s lap.

The next hand was Varric’s loss. “The lady’s right. Let's show a little skin." He removed his belt, letting his shirt hang open. If Josephine liked hairy men, then she was in luck here. His was so well-arranged that Baerca swore he combed it. And the chest that bore it was quite well put together. His torso was a thick column of muscle—nothing huge and swollen, but bulky. He had just the smallest bit of stomach fat, enough to place a bit of smoothness over the abdominal muscles. It was, in short, a firm body to lie against.

“Oh, that looks…silky,’ said Dorian

“Give me a drink of that bottle you’re hoarding and I’ll let you feel for yourself?”

“It’s called Dragon Piss. Are you sure you’re still interested?”

“Just get over here and feel me up, Sparkler.”

He did. With relish.

“Is, er, is this an open invitation?” asked Josephine.

“Sure. Everyone touch my chest. This night only, everybody gets to touch my chest.”

Why not. Baerca placed her hand to his chest, and, wow. That was soft hair. You could make a coat out of that. Hot damn.

“I take very good care of it, just so you know. Alright Baerca, let the lady ambassador have a turn.”

So far, Baerca thought, things were going well.


	3. Erstwhiles and Bulls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to skip the foot stuff, if it's not your kink. I think it's mild enough and funny enough to not be a huge turn-off, but what do I know, I'm the guy with the fetish. It won't dominate the whole of the fic any more than Varric's (or Blackwall's) chest hair will, so don't jump ship.

Leliana had competed her shoe collection. She’d made a point of complaining that boots were not an all-the-time sort of footwear. Sera was idly drumming on Cullen and Cassandra’s discarded armor. Cassandra looked irritated, but Cullen wanted to know if she could do a ¾ rhythm so that he could sing an old sailor’s tune he’d heard. He was, needless to say, a good way into a bottle of MacKay’s Single Malt. The bull was, through a few bad hands, down to just his glorious striped pants. And Dorian was glancing quite a bit at the pile of belts.

In other words, the night was getting started.

Leliana was dealer, and she was somewhat lost in giving Josephine a foot rub. And Josephine was expressing her approval…nonverbally.

“Er, Sera,” whispered Baerca, “Would you, uh, would you mind if _I_ got the occasional foot rub from our erstwhile spymaster? It, um, looks like she gives pretty good ones.”

“Seriously? I’ll be first in line, yeah? If Leliana’s an erstwhile, then I’ll be glad to help her get off. Walk so much in these shoes, my feet need all the attention they can get.”

“You know I have very good hearing,” said Leliana. "I’ll gladly take care of Baerca once I’m done with Josie, and Sera, you really have the loveliest arches. It’s a pity you’re the only elf I’ve met who cares for shoes.”

Sera looked genuinely offended “Don’t go and bring that up, alright? Not your business. Go back to ogling my feet.”

“Gladly. And Inquisitor? I meant what I said. At some point in the night, I am going to make your feet feel very good. Trust me, I’m”—She giggled—“an erstwhile.”

“What’s so funny?” asked Sera, “It’s a big word and I don’t think you use it a lot unless you’re looking to get your toes sucked, so don’t act like I’m stupid for not knowing it!”

“Well,” said Dorian, “This is all a wonderful way of learning about one another, and I’m certainly glad we’ve established an official foot masseuse for the Inquisition, but would you please deal the cards? I’d like to see some more interesting skin than what I’ve seen so far.”

He lost the next hand. He unbuckled a belt on his shirt and took off…half a shirt. His right nipple was out. His skin was smooth and hairless, and looked soft. Not that Baerca ever thought about his skin. Not that she’d spent months flirting with him without realizing he wasn’t into girls. No sir.

“You big tease!” shouted the Bull.

“It’s fashion, and don’t worry. I intend to have much more bad luck tonight.”

It seemed the cards didn’t like hecklers. This time the Bull had to strip.

“Well, this is nearly the moment you’re waiting for." He pulled down his pants like a merchant showing off a new piece of furniture. Underneath, he wore a white loincloth, that hung about down to his knees, back and front. If you could, hypothetically, get underneath him, you’d get the full view. And, if Baerca wasn’t mistaken, the fabric in front might just be tenting a bit.

  
Aside from hints of the Bull’s Iron, on full display were a brilliantly muscular pair of big gray man-thighs. Baerca wasn’t always fond of burly men, but the Bull was just so…large. She could curl up on him and not touch mattress. And that was oddly hot.

“You know, Bull,” said Dorian, “Yours is the first skirt I’ve wanted to look up”

“You know I could crush you, right?”

“That has occurred to me.”

“Are we at the part where people say they need to go piss but really they’re going to go off and snog?” asked Sera, “Because I like that part.”

“Easy, tiger,” said Baerca, "Wait till my shirt’s off, at least."


	4. "Male Nipples, Blah Blah Blah"

   
Dorian lost another hand, and unbuckled the other half of his shirt, only to reveal that his pants went almost halfway up his chest. He had fairly little muscle or body fat, and his collarbones poked out in a way Baerca found appealing.

“This whole outfit, this is a Tevinter thing, isn’t it?” asked Blackwall.

“No, my unshaven friend, this is all me.” Dorian reclined smugly against his stack of pillows.

Cullen lost next, and shucked off his shirt quite eagerly. He was all smooth skin and lean muscle, with some truly magnificent abs. He wore his trousers low, too, so the lines where hipbone met abdomen extended quite a ways down. Baerca could clearly see a few blond hairs sticking out above his belt.

“It appears you were eager to be rid of your clothing, Commander,” observed Morrigan.

Cullen blushed, “It’s warm in here.”

“Indeed. Would that it gets warmer.” She smirked.

Blackwall showed a handful of nothing. The cards seemed to like men. He undid his big, puffy shirt, only to reveal that he was wearing nothing underneath. He was thinner than Cullen, but equally toned, but that wasn’t the most notable thing. No, it was the hair. If Varric’s chest was an Orlesian garden, carefully arranged and cared for, then Blackwall’s was a Fereldan one: left to grow wild and glorious. Baerca had to admit it was a bit much for her, but if what Leliana said about Josephine and hairy men was true, she must have been sitting in a puddle.

“I hope I didn’t disappoint. My hair’s been so thoroughly advertised that the genuine article might seem too ordinary,” said Blackwall.

“I can assure you that this is not the case,” said Josephine. Ever the diplomat.

Sera rolled her eyes “Yeah, yeah, male nipples, blah blah blah. Can we get some interesting nipples out? You know, ones on top of tits?”

She promptly lost the hand. She unlaced her dress and took it off, revealing nothing but skin above her leggings. Baerca knew her body well: small, palmable breasts with a small hint of ribs between, excitable (and currently excited) nipples, flat stomach with a mole just at two-o-clock from the navel. Stone, she was already prepared to touch her.

Leliana giggled. “Those are very interesting, dear.”

Sera blushed. Hard.

Baerca elbowed her in the ribs. “You know, I can always cover those up with my hands, if you’re embarrassed.”

“Not embarrassed, Inky. Flattered. Always did love a ginger.”

“Well,” said Baerca, “You do know this is my real color.”

Baerca’s luck had held strong, but she finally lost a hand. She undid the long vest that kept the cold away. And she’d prepared a nice surprise for Sera: underneath, she was wearing her lowest-cut shirt. Baerca was proud of her cleavage. She was plenty well-endowed, and her breasts hung apart at an angle she thought looked perfectly proportionate. She’d spent much of her teens just looking down and being distracted.

Sera was grinning. She knew this was for her. “Inky, I’m dru-unk,” she said, in her ‘I want to pretend I’m helpless so you do things for me’ voice. “Can I lie down on those? They look really soft.”

“Go ahead, sweetie,” said Baerca. And Sera did. Baerca didn’t mean to toot her own horn, but her tits just had that effect on people. She loved it.


	5. ...Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sera: (Laughs.) The Inquisition can't be all broody beards like you and Cassandra.  
> Blackwall: She doesn't have the hair for it.  
> Sera: Oh, I'd bet she does. Places.

Sera had shifted to Baerca’s belly. She, of course, had her face up, looking directly at the shelf of the dwarf’s breasts.

“You sound all unfed, Inky. We should put more liquor in your belly.”

Baerca was a bit hungry. “I’ll do that, but maybe one of us should run down to the kitchens while we’re still a little clothed.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” asked Iron Bull, “I’ll go.”

“I should, er, probably go as well,” said Dorian, “I doubt the Bull is much of a gourmet.”

“You still know I could crush you, right?”

“It has crossed my mind.”

Baerca wasn’t stupid. “For the sake of the game, at least remember what you had on. And no fluids in the food.”

The two of them practically dashed off.

The group continued without them, and Leliana lost the next hand. She unhooked the long mail shirt, to reveal, tucked into her trousers, a thin, slightly lacy, white shift. The outlines of her areolae were quite visible. Her general shape was, however, somewhat obscured by the thing, which made Baerca want to get her naked all the more.

“You always have the nicest underthings,” said Josephine, “It seems a shame you sleep alone so many nights.” Then she blushed at what she’d said, “That sounded like quite the blatant pass, didn’t it? Oh dear. I simply meant someone should be sleeping with you, not that I should. Not that I wouldn’t sleep with you…” She blushed harder. “I’ll shut up now.”

“Josie, I would not decline. But the night may end in any number of ways.” As she said this, she was looking the lot of the players up and down.

Cullen lost the next hand. He unlaced and removed his breeches, and he was not wearing anything underneath. He had a pronounced backside, all muscle. Baerca was definitely an ass woman, and this was an ass woman’s kind of ass. Not to mention he was packing about seven inches. A little short on girth, maybe, but still, that was some cock.

“Oh, Maker, the pricks are finally coming out,” said Sera, “Guess it couldn’t be avoided, yeah, but I still think they’re all funny looking. Like big thumby broom-handles.”

  
“Oh, let the rest of us bask,” said Cassandra. “It has been too long.”

“She speaks!” said Leliana, “I was beginning to think you weren’t having any fun at all.”

“That is a toxic misconception about me. Now, let us deal. This is getting interesting.”

Cassandra lost. In spite of having two layers of shirts on, she too took off her breeches. She was wearing some black lacy things that extended about an inch down each of her powerful thighs. Which was a little surprising, but anyone who enjoyed smutty literature probably had more than a little lingerie. What was more surprising was that her legs were covered in soft-looking dark hairs.

“Pay up, beardy,” said Sera, and Blackwall handed her a gold piece.

“Did you two bet on my personal grooming?” Cassandra asked incredulously.

“All Sera’s idea,” said Blackwall, blushing.

“I get curious, yeah?” said Sera “You humans always want your bodies to be all elfy, and it’s silly. I keep telling Inky I wouldn’t mind one way or the other, but…”

Baerca blushed. Sera knew very well that feeling her smooth thighs after a shave was one of Baerca’s favorite things. There was no way she’d give that up.

“It’s, er, normally thicker,” said Cassandra. “I shaved for Orlais, just in case they put me in something ridiculous. Imagine my surprise when they had me in trousers.”

“Well, I think it’s lovely,” said Josephine. Apparently it wasn’t just hairy _men_ that appealed to her.

“I suppose it is only fair play to permit touching,” said Cassandra. “Although I would ask that people go no higher than the underwear. For now, at least.”

“Way to get into the spirit of the game, Seeker,” said Varric, “I’d been waiting to see if there was something playful hiding in there.”

“Why does everyone assume that I cannot enjoy myself? I’ll have you know that as a teenager my best friend and I routinely skinny-dipped with the local boys. And they found me very attractive as well. I was quite the flirt.”

That did explain why she always smiled at Baerca’s advances.

“You said I may touch your legs?” asked Josephine.

“Did you not hear me the first time?”

Josephine placed her cheek on Cassandra’s calf, and ran her face up and then back down her leg. Against the grain of the hair, then with it.

Cassandra laughed. “Ambassador Montilyet, it appears you, too, are getting into the spirit of the game.”

“It’s very nice and soft,” said Josephine, “mine grows in coarse if I try to stop shaving. So, I shave.”

“Well,” said Cassandra, “I believe I enjoy the feeling of smooth skin on my cheek.”

It was at this utterance that Dorian and Iron Bull returned with a large plateful of meat pies. As promised, they were wearing everything they left with. However, as far as Baerca could see, the Bull was no longer as…excited. She decided to be discreet about the possible causes of this.

“I do too,” said the Bull, “The horns kind of get in the way in a lot of cases, though. Nice undies, Cassandra. Nice…everything, Cullen.”

“I concur. About Cullen, I mean,” said Dorian.

Baerca decided to plug her mouth with a meat pie, rather than say anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tagged 'body hair,' didn't I?
> 
> Here's how it is. If you haven't noticed, I've tried to make the bodies in this fic unique, rather than giving everyone porn-body. So Cassandra's hairy. The rest of the girls aren't. There's stuff that won't be your thing in this fic: see also, the whole foot rub bit, maybe. No one turn-on or turn-off, depending, will take over the story, so just skip what you don't like. And remember: body-positivity is a good thing.
> 
> All of which is to say I grew up in a hippie town and it quirked my turn-ons. Or whatever. Part of why I included it was because I'm sure I'm not the only one. If you think it's hot, rock on!


	6. Secrets and De-Ruffling

“So, Leliana,” said Varric, swigging again from a bottle of something bizarre and hellish, “you traveled with the Hero of Ferelden. What can you tell us about her?”

“Plenty. What would you know?”

“Oh, I don’t know, something scandalous.”

“Well, she spent a great deal of time trying to sleep with Morrigan.”

“Unsucessfully, I might add,” said Morrigan, “I was rather determined to become pregnant, and a female lover simply would not do. Thankfully, she shared her handsome blond oaf. What a bedding that was. Hatred really is an overlooked aphrodisiac.”

“You were quite the catch back then, too,” said Leliana, “So young and acid-tongued. And I’m so pleased to see you still paint your toenails black.”

“Yes, I suppose you would be.”

“You have lovely long toes.”

“I am flattered.”

Sera did not seem impressed. “Nothing scandalous about wanting to sleep with a beautiful woman, sneakypants. Tell us something that’d really embarrass old whatserface.”

Leliana giggled. “Well, after a large meal, she could send everyone running upwind. I suspect surface food never truly agreed with her.”

Morrigan scoffed. “’Twas the nature of our trail rations. We all thought Oghren was simply rude, and he was, but I cannot think of a one of us that did not make ourselves unacceptable with some measure of regularity. Even yourself”

“I will have you know,” said Leliana, “That I am a delicate fucking flower of womanhood.” She crossed her arms decisively. “Sera, you would have liked her—she was a redheaded dwarf who had a problem with authority.”

“Yeah, but has she got Inky’s tits? I’m a simple woman, sneakypants. I like tits.”

“Her breasts were…perfectly nice.”

Sera shook her head. “Not selling me here, yeah?”

Dorian inhaled through his teeth. “Shall we commence with the nudity, or may I head off somewhere and masturbate alone like it’s just another night?”

They dealt. Morrigan lost. Baerca was certain she’d lose the scarf, but instead she unclasped her black skirt. She wore black leggings underneath, and her belly pouched just slightly over the waistband. Baerca could also see some long stretchmarks, likely from the pregnancy. She kind of wanted to run her tongue over them. She kind of really, really wanted Morrigan. She even wanted her long, black-tipped toes, and she wasn’t really, in Sera’s words, an erstwhile. And god, those breasts. The way they swayed as Morrigan leaned forward, the way they brushed against that red scarf. Fuck. Morrigan scared the shit out of her, and honestly, Baerca was convinced that she was somehow doing some spooky witchy thing. Some aphrodisiac aura. Some snatch-teasing spell. Some something.

And she completely forgot to pick up the hand she’d been dealt. That was magic at work, for sure. She got a great hand, though. Dorian did not. He undid the belt at the top of his abdomen, and undid some…something that extended around his waist. He was now in just his breeches. His ribs stuck out and his belly looked soft, if flat. He had a thin line of dark hair running down toward…yep, there was a distinct hard-on in those leather pants of his.

“You call my loincloth a skirt, and all the while you’re wearing a corset?” said the Iron Bull.

“Fashion!” was Dorian’s only retort.

The next to lose was Josephine. She undid the outermost layer of her ruffly assemblage, to reveal her big-sleeved yellow shirt and a pair of knee-length bloomers. Baerca hadn’t ever really noticed Josephine’s shape under all those layers, but it was quite appealing. Her hips swelled out in a gentle curve, and her rear end was round and wide. No doubt those bloomers were intended as baggy, but high on her thighs they were quite tight. Josephine gave her ass a little wiggle—with it facing Cassandra. The girl had set her sights for the night, it appeared.

“Yes, that is your arse,” said Cassandra, “I do believe you are somewhat belaboring the point. It is most remarkable, but I do not need to be teased in such a fashion.”

“Are you certain?” asked Josephine, “because I believe I need to fetch my glass. From the floor.” She turned her back to Cassandra, and bent over. Slowly.

“Oh, come over here and cease embarrassing yourself.”

Blackwall, who had roughly the same angle of view as Cassandra, chimed in, “You can keep going if you really want. I don’t mind.”

Josephine obliged Cassandra, laying her head across those fuzzy thighs she so enjoyed. Cassandra put an arm over her. It made a nice picture, Baerca thought. Not to mention, now Josephine’s ass was angled toward her. That was a pretty nice picture, too.

That said, after that whole talk she’d given her about the flirting, well, there was a bit of jealousy. It took a lot of nerve to get all cuddly with Josephine after “…and a woman.” Why, Baerca thought Cassandra deserved a spanking. A thorough spanking. Oh well. Baerca had Sera, and Josephine had all the hair she needed. She wondered if she’d get Blackwall involved in things as well.

Dorian and the Bull, Cassandra and Josephine, her and…hopefully Morrigan. All that was left was to get Varric, Leliana, Sera, and Cullen in…Baerca didn’t know, some sort of orgy. Or something. This was complicated.


	7. One by One, the Pants Fall.

Dorian was slowly but surely edging his way over to the Bull, and Cassandra had begun stroking Josephine’s hair. And then there was the rest of them. In limbo. Baerca and Sera could go home together, she supposed, but that’d be just like every other night. Still, the night was young. Only one set of genitals was out, after all.

Well, two would be, very shortly. Sera only had her plaid leggings to lose, at least if Baerca knew anything about her. And she’d lost the hand, so off they would come. She slid them down slow. She was skinny, even for an elf, but her hips were wide, and the bones jutted forward. Baerca would trace along them while she and Sera were in bed together.

“So, that’s what that looks like,” said Leliana.

“Pretty sure you’ve got one, yeah?” said Sera. “Or is it just blank space down there?”

Leliana smirked. “All will be revealed.”

“I think she meant about you being an elf,” said Baerca, “You know, no hair.”

“Yeah. ‘S great,” said Sera, “Never have to pull anything off the soap. ‘Cept yours, Inky.”

Baerca blushed.

“And I know everyone’s touching people’s stuff, but no one gets a feel unless I get a feel back, yeah?” Sera placed her hands on her hips. “And keep the fingers outside me.” She blinked. “Am I saying this? Is this the sort of situation where I say this shite?”

Baerca tugged at her leg. “Just lie down on me. It’ll be all right. I promise not to do anything untoward with my fingers.”

Sera obliged.

Dorian lost next. He pulled down his leather trousers to reveal a sort of leather codpiece, strung with a thong between his buttocks. It was…roomy. It occurred to Baerca that the erection she thought she saw was just this thing. Disappointing. 

“Let me guess,” said Iron Bull, “Fashion?”

Dorian waved his hand dismissively “Oh, no, this is fetish wear, pure and simple.”

The Bull raised an eyebrow, “Was it ever fashion?”

“Some of it. Lots of it. It’s an aesthetic, too.”

“So, when I said I could crush you?”

“Oh, yes. Yes indeed.”

The Bull smiled. “Good to know.”

He dealt. This time Leliana was out of luck. Another hand, another pair of pants. Her shift extended a little ways down her thighs, and as she sat, Baerca could for a moment see a flash of ginger between her legs. So, then, one step away from a naked Leliana.

She sat modestly, her knees bent such that they kept the shift covering everything that was conventionally covered. There was just a measure of, for lack of a better term, squish, as her calves pressed against her thighs—she was on the slimmer side, certainly, but she was soft, rather than hard.

“You’re a picture off a naughty playing card, you are,” said Sera.

“I am nothing if not a woman with plans. I would not put on something for sleeping alone in, not on a night like this.”

“You do not expect to sleep alone?” said Cassandra.

“Oh, just because I’ve given you Josie doesn’t mean I’m not without options. There’s, well, Sera and Varric, and the humans, I suppose. Although I haven’t been with a non-human since…I think it was Antiva City, three years ago,” Leliana smiled. “Ah, he was a delight.”

“First off, I do not recall being ‘given,’” said Josephine, “Secondly, you never told me about any dalliances when we were in Antiva City.”

“Josie, I’m a spy. We are known for both secrets and sexual escapades, if stories like our dear Varric’s are to be believed. Come now, let us deal.”

Cullen lost. Cullen was already naked. He pantomimed tugging a boot off.

“That’s cheating,” said Sera, “There’s no invisible clothes in this game!”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” he asked. “I can’t very well shave my head next.”

Cassandra spoke up, almost sheepishly, “When, er, when I was a girl, the loser would have to pay a forfeit.” 

“Should I kiss someone then? With tongue, even?” said Cullen.

“You’re joking, but that’s not a bad idea,” said Baerca. “Cullen, have you ever kissed another man?”

“Not even when I was studying to be a Templar, believe it or not.”

“Well then. Kiss Blackwall. He’s not spoken for yet.”

“You know,” said Dorian, “I think you’re all being a bit presumptuous about the Iron Bull and me. I could easily decide to begin running my teeth through Varric’s chest hair. I’m a free man.”

“If you say so,” said the Bull, “But I’ll have you know Krem is going to be asking what happened.”

“Cremisius is above all that sort of thing,” said Dorian, “I’ll have you know he’s much more interested in discussing politics, at least with me. His views are absurdly radical, by the way. Makes me look positively traditionalist.”

Iron Bull raised the eyebrow over his good eye. “You and Krem talk _politics?_ ”

“Well, we ‘Vints’ do have to stick together.” His tone softened. “But really, Cremisius is the only person I’ve met from Tevinter. What would you talk about with another Qunari, were you to travel with one?”

“The Qun doesn’t leave much for discussion, really." He smirked. "Maybe because it makes sense.”

“If you’re done with the foreplay,” said Blackwall, “I believe I have someone I need to kiss.” He pulled Cullen in tight, hands across his naked shoulder blades. They kissed for a good half a minute, before Blackwall withdrew. Josephine fanned herself.

“You know, Blackwall, that made me wish a little that I liked men. You’re very good.” Then he cringed. “I think I might have beard in my teeth.” He turned around and started to fish it out.

Blackwall smiled, “It likes you.”

Baerca always suspected the thing was conscious.


	8. Rasslin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the Dragon Age wiki has a description of Wicked Grace, and it's actually nothing like poker. Whoops.

Leliana lost the next hand. She had nothing to lose but her billowy white frustrating shape concealer. Good. Baerca hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted to see her spymaster naked. It was probably just the mood of the night. That was what was going on with Morrigan, right?

Leliana pulled it off over her head. She was slim, but soft, with breasts a little bigger than Sera’s and just a hint of curve to her belly. The hair between her legs was a shocking red, because of course it would be extra bright.

Sera chuckled.   
“Is my bare skin so funny?” asked Leliana.

“You look like me when I was chubby!”

Everyone looked at Sera, with various expressions of confusion on their faces.

“No, it’s alright, I was prettier then, honestly.”

“Chubby?” Leliana didn’t sound offended, just confused.

“Elves. You see all these bones?”—she gestured to her ribs and clavicles, then down to her hipbones—“We’re like that.” She paused. “Are you all staring at my crotch again?” Baerca certainly was.

“You, er, sort of pointed at it,” said Dorian.

“Yeah. It’s great. Inky likes it. Plenty of girls do.”

Leliana stretched out on her side. Still off of a naughty playing card. “I like it. It looks like you have very soft skin.”

Sera rubbed herself and nodded. “Yeah. ‘S pretty soft. Inky, care to verify that?”

Baerca rubbed along Sera’s mons, and stuck a finger just over the cleft of her outer labia. She gave a thumbs-up, and pulled Sera onto her lap.

Morrigan arched an eyebrow. Baerca’s mouth hung open. Shit. Morrigan had her eye on her. She was going to be having spooky apostate sex and it would be amazing and horrifying. Shit. Good shit. Bad shit. Shit.

Varric lost next. He shrugged off the shirt he’d undone.

“Cheater!” shouted Cassandra.

Varric shook his head. “It’s a fair cop.” He unlaced his breeches, and stood there perfectly nude. He was one stocky dwarf—a little fat over a lot of muscle over big bones. Little Varric was standing at attention, and he was a little short and a lot stocky, as well.

“Aww! It’s so proportionate!” said Leliana.

“You know, it’s been too long since people said nice things about my cock. I really appreciate that.”

“I may be a spy, but I never lie about anyone’s genitals. And it seems he’s got the beard in your place.” It was true. Little Varric was protruding out of quite the mane.

Cassandra lost twice. First her overshirt came off, which was nothing much. Then, she unbuttoned the second and lifted it over her head and by the stone those were some incredible shoulders. Baerca dearly wanted to be behind her to watch that back do its thing. Josephine snuck a hand up to fiddle with the thick, dark hair under Cassandra’s arms, which led to some very un-seekerly squirming and giggling.

She was wearing an intricately lacy top that matched her black bottoms, for the record. Baerca was honestly not really a lingerie woman. She was more a “whatever will keep my tits supported” woman. When the abs came out, then she’d start to give a shit.

“You know,” said Cassandra, “You have given me occasion to wear these for the first time. Remember when I disappeared in Val Royeaux? It must not leave this room, but I was shopping.”

“I keep secrets professionally,” said Leliana, “and I knew that already.”

“Of course you did.” Cassandra shook her head.

Iron Bull lost next. “Cullen!” he said “Pound out a drumroll on that washboard of a stomach you’ve got. It’s the moment everyone’s been waiting for!” Baerca had to admit, she dearly wanted to know what sort of equipment a Qunari packed. All the stories she certainly hadn’t read suggested that they were giants in every way.

Cullen stayed still. “Oh, fine,” said the Bull, and whipped off his loincloth, almost dejectedly. His penis was…well, it was a flaccid penis. Perfectly ordinary. Gray, but ordinary.

“I know. You were expecting it to have horns. Sorry. It’s just stories by dirty-minded racists.” He sat down, dealt, and lost again. A smile crept onto his face. “So, what’s my forfeit?”

Dorian smiled back. “Two words. Get hard.”

“Can I have assistance?”

Dorian smiled wider. “Well, if you insist…”

The Bull clasped his hands together. “Perfect! Cassandra! Wrestle me!”

“What?” said Dorian.

“What?” said Cassandra.

“Wrestle me. It’ll be fun. I bet you can’t take me.”

Cassandra scoffed. “Watch me.”

The Bull had the advantage in power, but Cassandra was consistently able to squirm out of his grasp before he got a pin. The shapes each of their muscles took on as they moved were incredible. Baerca never knew athleticism could be so hot.

Finally, Cassandra’s thighs were on either side of the Bull, and he was down. And, well, up. It was still an ordinary cock, but well, erections looked kind of nice in grey, Baerca thought.

She ground her crotch against his chest, just because, and stepped up. “All yours, mage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this got naughty fast. I, um, I'm not going to include any actual frick fracking onscreen, but do tell me if it seems I'm veering toward an E.
> 
> On a related note, I got to use the word mons! Yay!


	9. An Intruder

Baerca had avoided getting really naked thus far, but her luck had run out. She made a bit of a show out of it, going clasp by clasp, then finally shrugging out of her undershirt. She was, as Sera would put it, squishy cute. Her breasts hung full and heavy, and her belly was something of a pillow.

Morrigan was, if Baerca was correct, staring.

Apparently what you got for staring was a bad hand. Morrigan slid down her leggings to reveal a truly skimpy black thong. Her legs and backside were lean, and her hips narrow.

“I hope, inquisitor, that I live up to expectations?”

“I, um, yeah, sure. Nice legs.”

“You live up to mine.”

“You’re…blunt.”

“Yes, and you’re rather padded. I believe I have made my intentions known. You wish to pursue coitus with me, and you’re attractive, so we shall. Once this little bit of theater is ended.”

She dealt. Blackwall lost. He slid down his breeches and was wearing…a jeweled gold chain around his waist, and nothing else.

“What,” asked Cullen, “is that?”

“Well, when it comes off, it’s a gift for a pretty girl.”

“So we’re restricting ourselves to girls, then?” asked Varric.

“I didn’t say anything about who my cock was a gift for,” he said, gesturing downward. He was big. Intimidatingly so, Baerca thought. Just imagine what it would look like hard.

At this point, there came a knock on the door.

“Do you want to see a bunch of cocks?” shouted Varric.

“Are you offering?” was the reply. It was sung. Maryden! Baerca had no idea how she’d gotten wind of the gathering, but Baerca was feeling generous.

“I say we let her play,” she said.

“I brought cakes!”

“I say we let her play, too,” said Dorian.

They opened the door, and in came Maryden, dressed in a short, lacy thing, long gloves, and what could only be described as fuck-me boots. They were shiny black leather, and extended halfway up her thighs.

She pulled her gloves off. “That’s to make things fair.” She grabbed a bottle from the floor and took a swig, then belched loudly. Leliana scowled, but Cassandra, of all people, giggled.

“I would give that an eight or nine,” said the Seeker.

“Oh, I can do way better.”

Leliana shook her head.

The cards punished her for this judgmental stance. Baerca smiled.

“Hey, Leliana. What do you think of my feet?”

“They’re…wide. But feminine.”

“Wanna rub them?”

“I suppose that’ll be my forfeit?”

“You suppose correctly.”

Baerca lay her feet across Leliana’s thighs, which, by the way, felt amazing. Her skin was unspeakably soft. And Leliana went to work. Baerca did not think of her feet as an erogenous zone. She didn’t think much about her feet at all, except when they hurt. But this was incredible. Leliana dug in hard, and she must have hit some sort of pressure point, because Baerca’s feet were lit up with sensation. The spymaster’s touch was so forceful, yet her hands were so soft. Baerca couldn’t stop herself from moaning. She finally said when, if for no other reason than that she was going to have to start masturbating if Leliana went on any longer.

“Isn’t she the best?” asked Josephine.

Baerca couldn’t argue with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's been quite long enough, don't you?


End file.
